Summer Symphony
by Austin Gates
Summary: It is the last summer before senior year and Blaine and Sam have ten weeks to get through their summer to do list. From throwing a huge party to camping at a lake house, the two cross off their list. But will Blaine's secret cause the couple to doubt themselves? And will the be able to overcome new obstacles together? Sequel to "Still Fighting It" Please read and review.
1. The List

**Author's Note: **This is a sequel to "Still Fighting It." To read that fic, please visit my profile or go to blambabyblam dot tumblr dot com. This fic will be much shorter and more information on the format will be released shortly. Until then, enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee, their characters, setting, or plot. All of those belong to Ryan Murphy, FOX, and their affiliates.

**Chapter 1 – The List**

**Blaine **

As I sat at the counter in Sam's kitchen on that first day of summer after junior year, I was totally oblivious to what was coming my way in the following ten weeks. I had no clue that my summer would be just like a symphony.

When I was younger, seven or so, my parents forced my brother and I to come with them to my cousin's symphony concert. I sat in the oversized red auditorium chair in a nice shirt and bowtie, my dark hair slicked back. I read the program as we waited for the concert to begin and I looked over to my brother. "What's this word?" I asked him.

"That's _symphony_," he said.

"What's a symphony?" I asked him. He laughed.

"It's like one big, beautiful sound," he said sarcastically before rolling his eyes.

"No! Ben! Tell me!" I said pleadingly. He sighed before looking over at me.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you," he said. "It's another word for all the instruments in the group. They have sections of different instruments that all come together and create the songs we hear." I nodded knowingly with my mouth half open.

"So it's like a puzzle. All the pieces come together," I replied.

"You got it bud," he replied. "All the pieces coming together to create one big, beautiful sound," he added mockingly. But it stuck with me. All the pieces coming together to create something beautiful.

That was definitely my summer. A summer symphony.

The first day of summer was welcomed by everyone. The last two weeks of junior year had been hard on all of us and after a half-day of school, Sam drove me back to his house for lunch. Things with Sam had been going so well, I thought I was in heaven. At first, I was scared it would only last so long before I moved to McKinley. But during the first month after I moved, Sam was my rock. He was there for me like no one else was. And I loved it. I loved seeing him become this person I always knew he could be. His confidence had taken such an upswing since I met him back at Dalton that I would've never guessed he was the same person.

He was lucky to have the support though. Quinn and Sam became close right after everything blew up at him the previous fall. At first, I was worried he would start denying his feelings again, but soon it became so apparent that they were too good at being friends and she was so supportive of him being gay that my fears subsided. His parents made the most astonishing turn. I knew his mom was closer to him when we reunited in the fall, but we had no clue how his dad would react. I'll never forget the phone call I got when he finally told his dad he was gay. Sam was elated. His dad reacted just as well as his mom. It took a bit of time for things to get back on an even keel, but his dad was proving himself to be the kind of father Sam needed. A father any gay kid would want. I was incredibly happy seeing Sam

And lucky for me, Sam's family warmed up to me too. Not only was his mom as sweet as pie, she decided she wouldn't rest until she helped me bake one too. My cooking skills were no better than they were on Sam and my first Christmas at Dalton and Mrs. Evans was determined to change that. I felt like Celia Foote from _The Help_, except Mrs. Evans didn't quite look like Minnie. But she sure could cook! As the spring went on, I spent more and more time at Sam's house and it was becoming my second home.

"I just don't want to waste my entire summer," said Sam suddenly, shaking me out of my own reminiscing. He poured two glasses of lemonade and handed me one as I sat on the stool at the island counter. "This is it. After this summer, we're all going our own ways. You know my dad told me he doesn't even talk to any of his friends from high school?" he added incredulously. "It's like being Jason Bourne. Just erasing everything we know and starting fresh."

"Sam, I think Jason Bourne was a little different," I offered reasonably. "I mean, it's not going to be easy. But we've still got an entire year until graduation. We can enjoy what we have left. Besides, your dad didn't have Facebook to keep his friends connected." Sam smiled at me before taking a sip of his lemonade.

"You've got a point," he said putting his glass down. "But I just don't want to watch the summer speed ahead of me. I want to enjoy every second of it."

"Well what all do you want to do?"

"I want to go on a road trip!" he said, perking up instantly. I loved that playful grin he got when he was excited. It was like joy just exuded from his face and he didn't even know it. "And I want to finally beat Assassin's Creed 2. And I want to throw a huge party."

"Speaking of which," I said, interrupting him slyly, "Are we still going to Britt's party tonight? Because if we are, I need to go home and get another shirt."

"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" he asked me before another sip.

"Nothing," I said simply. "I just don't want a repeat of Rachel's party."

"Where you threw up all over yourself and I had to give you my shirt?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied blushing. "Not that I really minded. But I would rather not relive that night."

"Well why don't you just take one of my shirts? That way we don't have to drive over there," he offered. "And I would be a terrible boyfriend if I didn't give you one of my hoodies, right?" He smiled, leaning in closer before giving me a kiss. I smiled in the middle of it, still amazed at how well his body knew mine, down to the simplicity of our lips touching.

"You're not a terrible boyfriend," I told him, our lips still grazing as I spoke.

"You sure?" he whispered. I nodded slowly with a playful smile.

"Hey Sam! I'm home!" Sam's mom came through the front door and we moved our stools apart before she could come into the kitchen. "Oh! Hi Blaine!" she added when she came through the swinging door. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Just making a list for the summer," I said.

"Yeah," he tagged on. "Trying not to waste the only three months of freedom we have."

"Well you better get a move on it," she said. "It flies by. Next thing you know, you'll be in my kitchen in August complaining you didn't do anything all summer."

"She knows me too well," Sam muttered under his breath. "We're gonna go out in the sunroom," he said to his mom, taking my hand and pulling me out of the kitchen. I turned, giving Mrs. Evans a wave goodbye with my free hand. Once we were in the sunroom, Sam sat down next to me and I kicked my legs up over his.

"Alright," I said. "Let's make this list." Sam leaned over to the coffee table and pulled out the drawer, digging a pad of paper from its depths. I dug into my pocket and handed him a pen.

"So number one, go on a road trip," he said slowly, writing each word down. "Two, beat Assassin's Creed 2. Three, throw a huge party. Four…"

"Share my first time with my boyfriend?" I blurted out before I could think.

"Share my…wait what?"


	2. The Party

**Author's Note: **I want to thank you for being patient with me as I got through this chapter. Life has a way of stopping you from writing when you're still in college. As a note,this is a sequel to "Still Fighting It." To read that fic, please visit my profile or go to blambabyblam dot tumblr dot com. I point this out because these characters in "Still Fighting It" and "Summer Symphony" were grown from the base characters of Blaine and Sam as we knew them in the first part of Season 2. Ryan Murphy and the creators of Glee have gone in a very different direction with many characters since the beginning of Season 2, so if you read this expecting Sam and Blaine to be like Sam and Blaine a la Season 4, you'll be disappointed. With that being said, enjoy…

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee, their characters, setting, or plot. All of those belong to Ryan Murphy, FOX, and their affiliates.

**Chapter 2 – The Party**

**Sam **

Later that night I drove Blaine to Brittany's big summer kickoff party. I put my hand on the gear shift and Blaine interlaced his fingers with mine. It was those moments that made me regret fighting it for over a year. I still couldn't believe I wasted so much time. The list we made together was tucked safely away in my pocket, but it was still on my mind. Especially the curveball Blaine threw at me this afternoon. By the end of it though, we had a solid list of eight essential things we had to do before senior year started. Scrawled on the paper, it made it all much more real.

Go on a road trip.

Beat Assassin's Creed 2.

Throw a huge party.

"The first time"

Complete a movie marathon.

Spend a week at the lake house.

Ride rollercoasters until we throw up.

Write an original song.

It was a lot of fun to put together. I couldn't bring myself to write "have sex with my boyfriend" so I figured "the first time" would do. The movie marathon was something we planned over and over but never got around to. We'd always say "Let's have a _Star Wars _marathon" or "why don't we watch all the _Indiana Jones _movies?" but we never got around to it. I mean, I loved movies. I owned all of them, but we never watched them. I made Blaine promise on this one. That he would sit through all of them, _Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Spiderman, Superman, _and_ X-Men _and any horror series we could get around to. He swore he would (unless Chucky the doll got under his skin) and I was gonna hold him to it. What really got me was number 7.

"Why don't we have one about rollercoasters?" he asked me in the sunroom that afternoon. "I mean, I bought you those tickets to Cedar Point on our first Christmas and you never got to use them. Why not go enjoy a day at a theme park?" I was shocked he remembered that. But on the other hand, it felt pretty good. I try not to get too mushy, but with Blaine, it was impossible. My boyfriend was a sweetheart and that was that.

On the way to the party, we agreed we'd keep the list a secret. "I just don't want anyone trying to get in on our thing," he explained. "You know how Rachel and Kurt get. I love them, but they turn everything into a project. I just want this to be our thing."

"I like the way you're talking Anderson," I replied teasingly with a squeeze of his hand. "I won't tell a soul." We drove in silence for a little while, before I took a deep breath. "You're quiet tonight," I said.

"Just thinking," he replied simply with a meh-kind-of-look on his face.

"About what?" I asked.

"How Iron Man would kick Captain America's ass any day." A smile spread wide across my face and I laughed sarcastically.

"Ah, you really want to play this game again?" I asked. "Because last time we had this argument you lost."

"That's because last time I had just had my wisdom teeth out and you decided to egg me on before the anesthesia wore off." I laughed out loud.

"Yeah, I know. That was great."

"Not funny," he replied stubbornly as I pulled to the curb in front of Brittany's house.

"Are you sure?" I asked as I mustered up a charming grin as I put the car in park.

"Yes, Sam, I'm sure."

"It wasn't even a _little _funny?" I asked again as I leaned over, practically jumping on top of him. "Laugh if you think it was funny," I said as I moved my hands to his side.

"No!" he snorted out as I began to tickle his ribs. "Sam! Stop!" But he couldn't hold the laughter in.

"I knew you thought it was funny. Tell me it was funny!" I teased him.

"Sam!" he screamed, barely getting words through all his laughing.

"Tell me!" I yelled back. He struggled to get his arms free from under me, but once he did, the retaliation began. He tried to tickle my sides, but every time he outstretched his arms, it just opened his own sides.

"Okay! Okay!" he said, barely able to breathe. "It was funny." In an instant, I stopped tickling him.

"I know," I said, smiling. There was a knock on the car window behind me and Kurt was peering in.

"You guys okay?" he asked, almost yelling through the window.

"Uh, yeah," I said, my face going red.

"Okay, cause it kind of looked like a mix between watching _Thor _and _Oz_. I wasn't sure whether it was you guys being superheroes again or prison rape." Blaine burst out in laughter. I finally opened the door. "Well that's a relief," Kurt added. "Your car certainly doesn't smell like prison rape."

"You familiar with that smell, Kurt?" I asked, locking the door behind me.

"Oh ha ha," he replied sarcastically. "I just wanted to be sure of your well-being."

"Thanks buddy," I told him before walking around to the other side of the car and up Brittany's driveway. Before we got there, I promised Blaine I would make sure he didn't make an ass out of himself, so I already knew I had to watch the drinking tonight. When we opened the door, I realized it wasn't going to be easy. The music hit us in waves as it blared out at us. There were at least seventy five people there, probably more. Brittany seemed to pop out of nowhere.

"Hey guys!" she said with a smile on her face and a red solo cup in her hand. "All my three gays at once. Looking good!" she exclaimed, holding the door open. "There's beer in the basement and make sure you don't go upstairs," she explained as we entered.

"Thanks Britt," Blaine said with a smile. She disappeared into the crowd of people just as fast as she appeared and I looked at Blaine and Kurt.

"Let's see what's going on downstairs," I suggested, noticing none of our friends were around. Blaine nodded, but Kurt just shrugged, not able to hear me over the speaker next to his ear. The three of us found the basement steps and I quickly realized there were even more people downstairs. From half way down the stairs, I could see over everyone and found a group of the glee clubbers sitting on the hearth of the fireplace. I waved to them and Quinn waved back, motioning for us to come over. We stopped and Blaine and I each got a beer, Kurt opting for the water bottle he brought with him, and made our way across the crowd.

"Hey you," Quinn said, getting up and giving me a hug. "We moved down here. It's quieter."

"I can't have my voice constantly strained like that," Rachel chimed in, sitting on the small raised brick hearth. Finn was sitting next to Rachel and Artie was facing the group in his chair. I nodded and Kurt sat on the other side of Rachel. It wasn't long before everyone felt nice and tipsy, laughing our asses off as we remembered Finn's almost suspension from Rocky Horror or Brittany throwing up on Rachel at the assembly.

"Okay sexy ladies and boys," said Brittany, coming over to our group which hadn't moved in two hours. "Time to spice things up. We're gonna play _Never Have I _Ever. This cup," she explained holding up a red solo cup with a big X sharpied on it, "has a little bit of every kind of alcohol in the house. The loser has to drink it all."

"I'm in!" shouted Artie instantly. "I'm on the brink of getting shitty and it's time to get pushed over the cliff."

"Not to mention we'll get to see who's a real bad boy and who's all talk," added Rachel as she leaned into Finn's mouth in an awkward attempt at being sexy.

"Alright, let's get into a circle," said Brittany sitting down on the floor with her legs crossed like circle time in Kindergarten. We all followed her lead and soon everyone had a hand up with five fingers out. "Blaine Warbler, you start and we'll go around the circle," she said. Blaine gave a goofy grin before his cheeks got red.

"Okay," he started. "Never have I ever," he said carrying out the last syllable as he thought. "Um, never have I ever failed a class." I narrowed my eyes at him playfully and put my thumb down. Everyone looked around and I saw I was joined by Brittany and Finn. I was next. I looked over at Blaine.

"Never have I ever stolen anything," I said quickly.

"That's not f –"

"Hey!" I said, interrupting Blaine. "Don't be a sore loser," I remarked jokingly. "We all know what happened."

"Rachel, you didn't put a thumb down," Quinn said with a devilish smile.

"I've never stolen anything."

"You stole Finn," she shot back. The whole crowd roared and Rachel reluctantly put a finger down before sticking her tongue out at Quinn.

"Blaine Warbler what did you steal?" asked Brittany, four fingers still raised.

"I…nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"No Blaine Warbler," I continued playfully, "tell us what you stole." He gave a sigh before speaking up reluctantly.

"I stole some dumb porn magazine from a bookstore when I was 13," he muttered.

"What kind of porn magazine, Blaine Warbler?" I asked, egging him on.

"It was straight porn. I thought I would try it out. Maybe it would turn me." Quinn laughed before giving him a big "awww." She leaned over me as the rest of them were laughing and gave him a hug around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry that didn't work out Blaine," she said through her laughter. "That is too adorable." I caught his eye from over Quinn's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill you," he mouthed quietly. I gave him a quick wink before Quinn went back to her seat.

"Okay, okay, my turn," she said in a giddy voice. "Never have I ever been black out drunk." We looked around and watched the fingers go down, including my own. The game continued and Brittany was next. Another finger went down when she exclaimed she never dyed her hair. I was screwed as both people who knew I had dyed my hair in the past were sitting on either side of me. Artie played dirty with "never have I ever walked into a party at Brittany's house" and everyone lost another finger. I was down to one and that cup of alcohol in the middle of our circle was looking even more disgusting than before. It wasn't so scary until there was only one finger separating me from drinking that cup. It wasn't any help that Rachel was the only other one down to one, but she got to ask the next question.

"Never have I ever had sex," she said sloppily. Saved. My finger stayed up. I instantly caught myself looking at Blaine's hand. It stayed the same at two fingers up. Quinn's finger went down as well as Brittany and Artie's. Finn reluctantly put a finger down and Rachel turned on him and went crazy. She was like Storm from _X-Men_ putting all her wrath on him. There was a lot of screaming.

"You said you wouldn't tell anyone else!" she exclaimed.

"Everyone already knew, Santana told them!" he replied.

"You don't need to advertise you fucked her and not me!" she yelled back before getting up and stalking away. Brittany just turned around.

"Buzzkill," she said innocently. "Kurt, you're up." I looked around. It was down to me and Brittany.  
"Never have I ever been a mom," Kurt said, giving Quinn a mischievous smile.

"Seriously Kurt?" asked Quinn. I couldn't tell whether she was offended or not. As she put a finger down and turned her hand to flip Kurt off with her last remaining finger, I knew she didn't find it funny. Before I noticed, Brittany was chugging the cup in the middle of the circle.

"Brittany, what are you doing?" I asked, instinctively pulling the cup of sludge away from her. "You still have a finger up."

"No I don't," she said, the gross mix running down her chin. "Kurt said he's never been a mom and I have. I lose." Everyone stopped and you could sense the tension as we waited for an explanation.

"Wait, what?" asked Quinn. "Honey, I've known you since we were kids, you've never been pregnant."

"I know, but I'm still a mom. Lord Tubbington, duh!" she said before taking the cup back from me and finishing it. "Excuse me, I need to go vomit." Artie wheeled after her.

"I'm going to check and make sure she's okay," he said. I laughed to see how fast he plowed through the crowd after her. These days, he was doing anything he could to get Brittany to date him again.

"Want to go outside?" asked Blaine. "Get some fresh air?" I nodded, getting up and holding out my hand to pull him to his feet.

"You coming, Quinn?" I asked. She shook her head, pulling out her cell phone and burying her head in the screen. I caught Kurt's eye and gave motioned to Quinn with that look that said "go apologize!" He moved toward her reluctantly as Blaine and I walked across the room and up the stairs to the main level and out onto her driveway.

The cool air hit my face and I instantly felt better. It wasn't like I drank a lot, only one beer. Blaine had downed two more than I had and I could tell it was throwing him off balance. But the basement was hot and the cool air outside felt great. "You feeling okay, babe?" I asked him, taking his hand in mine.

"I'm feeling great," he said with a smile. "It's summer, we're having fun and we're together, what could be better?" I laughed as he held onto my hand before spinning under my arm like we were dancing before spinning into my chest and holding on to me to keep from falling.

"Watch yourself," I said with a small laugh. His face was inches from mine and I could see he was drunk in his eyes. They struggled to focus on me, but at the same time, they felt very honest. I loved moments like that, where it was just him and me and nobody else. It was those moments where I knew I made the right decision. He leaned in closer and put his head on my shoulder and swinging his arm around my waist.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I replied. It was _definitely _one of those moments. I knew I chose right.


	3. The Family Dinner

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee, their characters, setting, or plot. All of those belong to Ryan Murphy, FOX, and their affiliates.

**Chapter 3 – The Family Dinner**

**Blaine**

"Sam, it says take a left up here, not a right," I told him quickly. The windshield wipers were sliding noisily across the glass and I could see Sam squinting his eyes to make out the road through the pounding rain. After a week of blissful summer weather, we had spent the past five days in what felt like a hurricane. And somehow our road trip was very different than I had expected it to be.

"No, if I remember right, it's a right hand turn," he replied.

"I'm telling you it's a left," I repeated loudly.

"Are you sure?"  
"Yes, I'm sure!"

"Stop yelling at me!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Keep your hands on the wheel!" I yelled back, taking hold of the wheel. His hands grabbed the steering wheel fast and I took a deep breath. We were dead silent. The car went from 100 to 1 in a matter of seconds. There was no sound except for the wipers, the rain, and the car's engine humming beneath us. "It says to take a left," I repeated calmly.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he replied in a similarly calm voice. As he took the left hand turn, it was just as I told him, and we saw the sign that pointed us toward I-75 South.

"It's cool, I'm sorry I yelled," I answered as he sped up cautiously to get back on the highway after a quick pit stop. Earlier that day, Sam's parents called him to tell him they were stranded at their family's farm in Clinton, Tennessee and needed him to come and get them. It was a six and a half hour drive, so I told him I'd give him company.

"I wish they would've just gone into town and got the damn car fixed. I don't know why they had the tow truck driver bring it the whole way back to Lima," he explained, frustrated.

"What do you mean 'into town?' Is there an 'in town' where we're going?" I asked with a smile.

"Wait, what?" he asked. "I don't get it."

"I mean you said they should've gone into town. Are we going to some backroads, redneck place where people say things like 'I have to go into town' like that?" Sam just gave me a quick sideways glance before turning back to the road. A grin crept over his face and he just laughed.

"Oh you have no idea."

He was right. I had no idea. When we finally pulled into the Evans family farm two and a half hours later, the rain was still pouring harder than ever. The hanging sign outside the gate that surrounded the property was whipping back and forth in the wind and the gravel road seemed to soften under the tires. I could see a building off behind a big tree on my right, but none of the lights were on. In front of us was a large farmhouse lit up from the inside with fake candles in the windows.

"Home on the range, eh?" Sam asked me playfully as he parked next to a rusty orange pickup truck.

"I feel like we're actually in a movie," I replied, looking at the property through my window. "Your family is every stereotype I've ever had about people who live on farms."

"Alright, just be nice," Sam warned me.

"I'm always nice," I replied. "Do they know about…you know…_us_?" I asked.

"Uh…I'm not sure. But I don't really care either way," he explained quickly. "Let's just wing it, sound good?"

"Sure," I replied with a pang of pride beating on my heart. A year ago, Sam Evans wouldn't be caught dead with me. Now he didn't care if his own family knew we were a couple. That was growth at its finest.

"Alright, let's just get all of our bags inside in one shot so we don't have to keep coming out in the rain," he told me, handing me my book bag of clothes from the backseat. I collected all the trash we had and put it in a spare plastic bag before throwing my own book bag on my back. "Okay, just make a run for it, straight to the porch." I nodded and Sam threw open his door, the rain instantly slamming into him. I followed suit and didn't make it out of my seat before I felt the rain hit me in large, dense drops. I slammed the car door shut and heard it beep as Sam turned ahead of me and clicked his key clicker. I ran right behind him and saw a larger woman in a dress and apron standing on the porch.

"Grandma!" Sam shouted through the rain.

"You boys get in here, quick now!" she exclaimed in the thickest Southern accent I had ever heard in my life. For a split second, I couldn't believe this place was real. It was straight out _Fried Green Tomatoes. _I didn't have time to process it before we were finally under the big porch and out of the rain. "Come on, inside, inside," the woman said, ushering us through the door. "Now y'all just throw your bags right by the door here."  
"Hi Grandma," Sam said, giving her a hug. As they embraced, I got a closer look at his grandmother. She was short, somewhat larger, with a pale face and grey hair pulled back in a bun. She returned his hug enthusiastically.

"It's so good to see you Sammy," she replied. "And you brought a friend, I see."

"Yeah Grandma, this is Blaine," Sam said, backing up to introduce us.

"Hello Mrs. Evans," I replied, extending my hand for a handshake. She moved past it and gave me a hug that was just as warm as the one she gave to Sam.

"Hello Blaine, it's so nice to meet you," she said, holding on longer than I anticipated. "Sam's mom and dad have told me a lot of good things about you," she explained, backing away with a wink. "Now if y'all don't mind leaving your shoes right there with your things. You got here just in time for dinner."

"Come on," Sam said, putting a hand on my back as I followed his grandmother into a room toward the back of the house. The farmhouse, truth be told, was adorable. Even if its style was a little too old-fashioned for me. All of the little nooks held something interesting. Whether it was a little ottoman in a corner for reading or a stack of old magazine sprawled out on a coffee table, it had a very warm feel. As we turned the corner into the dining room, I was greeted by a few familiar faces.

"Hey Mom," Sam said, moving around the table where there were two empty seats.

"Hi honey," she replied. We reached them and he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry you had to drive the whole way down here. It was your father's fault."

"And by that, she means she can't drive in these country roads," Sam's dad interjected. "How are you Blaine?" he asked, catching me off guard.

"Oh, I'm great Mr. Evans, thank you."

"Hi Blaine," Sam's mom added with a smile. I smiled back and took my seat. Across from us sat Sam's Aunt Jackie and Uncle Ted. I knew them from Easter dinner at Sam's house earlier this year.

"How's it going Blaine?" asked Aunt Jackie.

"I'm okay," I replied. "Just a little wet," I said with a chuckle.

"Here, let me see," Sam said, pulling a small leaf the size of a paperclip out of my hair. I instinctively pulled away, but he snagged it before I could move. Sam's grandma sat at the head of the table opposite Sam's dad and took a deep breath.

"Alright, time for grace," she said, reaching her hand out. I wondered who Grace was until I realized they meant they were saying a prayer. I watched everyone join hands around the table and Sam took mine. Before I could show I didn't initially know what she meant, I took his grandmother's hand in mine. "Dear Lord, thank you for our unexpected, but welcome company," she began. "Thank you for bringing our lovely boys Sam and Blaine to us safely today and thank you for allowing us to enjoy this delicious meal together. Please watch over us through this storm and keep everyone safe this night. In your loving name we pray, Amen."

"Amen," said everyone else in unison. Sam gave my hand a little squeeze before letting it go. I let go of his grandmother's hand and she instantly became animated again.

"Alright, there's plenty to go around, so feel free to take as much as you want. Especially you boys. Y'all look sickly thin."

"No worries there Grandma," Sam said, taking a large spoonful of mashed potatoes. I looked at the table and noticed the food for the first time. A plate of what looked like sliced chicken sat in the middle surrounded by carrots, corn, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Sam passed me the bowl of mashed potatoes and I helped myself. Within minutes, everyone's plates were filled and the dry air began to feel great against my damp clothes. It felt very comfortable here. I sat back and listened to the family interact, back and forth. It was so natural to them. There were a few times Sam's grandmother said something I didn't fully understand, but for the most part I kept up and enjoyed just listening. It worked well, until dessert that is.

"Now Blaine, tell me about yourself," offered Sam's grandmother as she handed me an oversized piece of peach cobbler. "I hear you went to an all-boys academy with Sam."

"Yes ma'am, um, I mean Mrs. Evans," I said nervously. She laughed out loud.

"Oh honey, please call me Grandma. Lord knows everyone else does around here."

"Yes ma'am," I repeated. Sam put his foot on mine and pushed down a bit, more for moral support than anything. A clandestine way to tell me to relax and be myself. "Well I went to Dalton for a few years and then my parents moved jobs closer to Lima and I ended up transferring to McKinley High."

"And you and Sam ended up meeting there again?"

"Yeah, I guess life has a way of playing games with you," I replied with a smile.

"Yes it does," she agreed, throwing me a wink. "And you're in the glee club with Sammy, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's great," I said. "I was in the glee club at Dalton too, but I like McKinley just as much. It's nice to have some girls around. Makes song selection easier."

"I bet it does," Grandma said. "Lord knows you need female companionship. You put that many boys together, you never know what's going to happen." I didn't know how to respond. What did she mean by that? Was it a cut at being gay? Did she even know what gay was? I looked down and caught Sam and his parents in the corner of my eye doing the same thing. Before I could answer, Sam jumped in to save the day.

"Uncle Ted, are you guys going back to your house tonight? I saw it was dark earlier." So that building I saw was another house. It was all flooding back. Sam had mentioned that his aunt and uncle lived on the compound with his grandmother.

"No, this storm is a bit rough and you know how Julie gets," his Uncle explained. "Julie is our dog," he explained to me, seeing the confusion in my face. "She's upstairs in our bedroom."

"Not to mention I don't like having everyone scattered to the winds when these storms come round," Grandma explained. "I like keeping everyone under the same roof, just in case."

"So where do you want us to sleep?" Sam asked Grandma.

"You can take the green room upstairs," she explained. "I know it's a bit small, but your mom and daddy took the blue room and Teddy and Jackie took the red room, so it's all I have left. But you should be fine," she explained.

"And what about me?" I asked quietly.

"What _about_ you?" she replied.

"Where would you like me to sleep?" I asked, clarifying my question.

"I just said y'all are in the green room darlin'. Didn't you hear me?" she asked with a bit of a laugh. I didn't know how to reply. The last thing I expected was for Sam's grandma to have us bunking together.

"Oh, I, uh…" I stopped talking before I could stutter like an idiot some more.

"Oh Lord, can we all stop pretending we don't know what's going on here?" Grandma asked in an exasperated voice.

"What do you mean Grandma?" Sam asked.

"Sammy, did you really think you were going to come into my house and bring this lovely young man here without me knowing y'all were a couple?" Aunt Jackie almost spit out her cobbler in surprise. "Something to add Jackie?" asked Grandma.

"No, no, not at all," she said, taking a napkin to her mouth. "I just…Teddy and I assumed when we visited over Easter you were dating, but we didn't want to tell anyone."

"You don't need to _tell _anyone, look at them!" Grandma said with another laugh. "I could see a mile away you two were in love." I didn't know how to respond. Apparently neither did Sam. "Do you remember your Uncle Carl?" Grandma asked. "He was as gay as they come, God rest his soul" she explained.

"Uncle Carl? As in dad's brother Carl?" asked Sam's dad.

"Yes honey, the only Uncle Carl you have. You never wondered why he never got married? Or why he collected those ridiculous porcelain horse figurines?"

"He…he wasn't…" Mr. Evans seemed to have a moment of realization that shot across his face. Uncle Ted just laughed out loud along with Grandma.

"It's true, Uncle Carl was gay!" she exclaimed. "When your father and I first met, Carl came to my house because he loved the red sundress I wore to the pond one day and wanted to see if he could draw the fabric pattern on a piece of paper. And so of course I let him. And we were sitting out on the front porch of my house talkin' and laughin' and carryin' on like two gals when who should walk up but your daddy," she told us, mostly to Mr. Evans. "And he started yellin' at Carl, tellin' him he had no right to take his woman and Carl's face just got red and he started to run away and I just laughed at your daddy. And he asked me what was so funny and I told him, Carl doesn't like me, he likes my dress." I laughed at Grandma's story. She was telling it like it was just a week ago. "Of course, back then we didn't have a word for gay. We just though he was a quirky fellow. But Carl used to stop by every time I got a new dress and draw the pattern out in his sketchbook. And your daddy would come with him and we'd all sit out on the porch until the sun went down. Oh, we had so much fun." Her eyes glazed over and she gave one more quick laugh before dabbing the corners of her eyes with her napkin. "We sure did," she said again. "Of course, both those boys left me to go up to Heaven, but I know they're having a wonderful time." She coughed a bit, though I think it was more to stifle a sobbing fit. The table was silent, the laughter having died down.

"So you're okay with me and Blaine being together? Like as a couple?" Sam asked quietly. Grandma looked up, her eyes glinting on the corners.

"Oh honey, of course I am. You two love each other, right?" Sam nodded. She looked at me. I nodded quickly, gulping as I did. "Well then that's all that matters." Sam looked down at his lap before getting up. He walked behind my chair to Grandma's and gave her a hug. She let out a quick "oh" of surprise before giving another laugh. "I love you Sammy," she said as they hugged. I could see Grandma's face from over Sam's shoulders and she caught my eye. "You too Blaine, get over here," she said. I got up awkwardly. All of this love was making my heart feel heavy. She got up with me and took me in her other arm, giving both of us a loving embrace. I was so grateful Sam had a family like this. After everything he'd been through, he deserved to have a family that loved him. The hug from Grandma ripped at my heartstrings like I never expected and I could feel tears stinging my own eyes. Before I knew it, a dark feeling crept over me and I couldn't contain myself anymore. I had to get out of there.

"I'm sorry," I said as both Sam and I broke from the hug. "You said the green room?" I asked, making my way toward the door.

"Oh, uh, yes honey, just right up the stairs, it's the door straight ahead at the end of the hall." I nodded and back out of the room.

"Dinner was great," I added. "Thank you."

"You alright?" Sam asked. I nodded quickly before turning around. "I'll be right back," I heard Sam say as I made my way across the house to grab my bag. I walked faster than normal, scooping up my things and making my way up the staircase and down the long hallway.

"Blaine," I heard Sam call from downstairs. I walked into the room that had cream walls with a green trim and green bedspread to match and shut the door behind me. I never felt like that before. Not in public at least. I always kept my cool. Before I could even process all of my emotions, there was a small knock on the door. "Blaine," he said through the door. The knob turned slowly and I watched the door creak open. Sam walked in, his hair still a bit wet from running through the rain. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "I've never seen you run out of somewhere like that." Before he could finish his sentence, I dropped my head and began to cry. "Whoa whoa whoa!" Sam exclaimed calmly, clearly not expecting that. "I…what's wrong?" he asked, trying to take control of the situation as he sat down next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder and sliding his hand into my own. I took a few deep breaths, trying to regain my composure. I had to do it. I had to tell him.

"Sam," I said, scrunching my eyes closed. "I…I need to tell you something."

"Okay," he replied. "Go ahead, you can tell me anything," he added reassuringly.

"I…I've been," I started but couldn't get it out. Finally, I took one last deep breath before looking up at him. I caught his emerald eyes in my own and knew I had to come clean. "I've been keeping a secret from you. And I need you to know the truth."


	4. The Secret

**Author's Note: **Spoiler alert! If you have not read _Still Fighting It_, now would be the time to do so. This chapter and the rest of the book depends on you knowing what happens in that fic. You can find it on my profile page. With that being said, this chapter is a lot of dialogue and not much description, but hopefully y'all will still enjoy. Thanks for reading!

A. Gates.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee, their characters, setting, or plot. All of those belong to Ryan Murphy, FOX, and their affiliates.

**Chapter 4 – The Secret**

**Sam**

My stomach twisted as Blaine told me he had been keeping a secret. He was making me nervous. Things between us were going so well since we started dating again. I didn't want anything to ruin that.

"I've been lying to you for a long time," he said out loud. My jaw got tight and I could feel my nerves building up. I hated that feeling. "Please don't get mad."

"Trust me," I interrupted, trying to alleviate the tension. "I'm the last person who's going to get mad about lying." It was true. After everything I had done the year before, I wasn't about to call anyone out on lying. Especially not Blaine. Not when I could tell it was hurting him to do it, whatever the lie was.

"Still, I feel like shit lying to you," he said quickly. "But I need you to know the truth." He got up from the bed and began pacing in front of the door.

"Blaine, can you just calm down? You know you can tell me anything," I reassured him, not really sure if I was ready for what was coming myself. Blaine looked at me again as he paced. It was the all too familiar look I got from him when he was sizing me up in his head. I got it the night of our first date, the night he told me about his brother dying, the night he came to my house in Lima after I was outed. And now I was getting it tonight. "Please trust me," I said simply. He gave me one last look over before sighing and sitting down next to me.

"I…" he choked on his words. His head sank down as he stared at his lap again. I grabbed his hand and held it tight. "Do you remember our first date?" he asked.

"When you took me to that restaurant, yeah," I replied.

"Yeah and on drive back to Dalton you asked me about how I came out and how my friends and family took it and how I managed to stay happy after coming out."

"I remember," I told him. "Wasn't one of my smoother moves if I remember correctly," I said with a small grin. "Pretty sure I was trying to get some advice."

"I told you that my uh, my mom and my dad were cool with everything and that I was really lucky to have them as parents. I made my parents out to be something they aren't," Blaine explained. I could tell he was trying to keep his shit together, but it was simmering just under the surface.

"So your parents don't know you're gay?"

"No, they know," he continued. "They just don't approve of it. They uh, they _really _don't approve of it." I took a deep breath in. I always assumed Blaine got all of his strength from his parents. He always made it seem like they were supportive and I knew from last year how strong of a person he was. It didn't make sense that they didn't approve of him being gay. "I knew you were asking for advice without really asking," he explained. "I didn't want to scare you away from being comfortable in your own skin. And telling you the truth about my parents would've seemed like a horror story."

"How bad is it?" I asked, surprised at the words he chose. I always appreciated how Blaine's words were exactly what he meant to say. Like, he didn't just talk to hear himself talk, he chose his words to be perfect for what he was saying. I tried explaining that to him once and he taught me what the word _articulate _meant. "It's really that bad?" I asked after he just shook his head to my first question.

"Neither one of my parents have told me they loved me since I came out. Not once in the past three years." Slowly I was putting it all together. _That's _why Blaine rushed out of the room. He'd been sitting by watching my mom and then my dad and now my aunt and uncle and grandma all come to accept me with open arms. For the past few months, I'd always felt lucky for that. But Blaine just sat next to me, smiling and supporting me before going home to a house of people who hated him for being gay. I didn't know what to do, but for the first time, I felt remorse. It was a surreal experience. In that moment, I felt what I saw on Blaine's face back at Dalton. He used to look at me with so much pity and for a while, I hated it. But now that the tables were turned, I realized when you love someone like I loved Blaine, you couldn't help but feel that way. I wrapped my arms around him and held him in my arms. He sank in, tears still running silently down his face. For once, I was comforting him. I didn't like that I had to, but I was grateful that I knew how.

"Blaine you know I will always be there for you," I said quietly. "No matter what, even if your parents aren't, I will. I've always got your back."

"You aren't mad I lied this whole time?"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, maybe a little too harshly. "Of course I'm not mad. You didn't lie to me to be mean. You did it to help me out. But I'm glad I know the truth. I always wondered why we were never allowed to go to your house."

"If I took you to my house, they'd kill someone," Blaine replied.

"Well, we'll see. The point is that I'm here for you. And I'm not going anywhere." Blaine sat up again and wiped his eyes dry. I gave him a small smile that he returned. Soon, he was leaning in for a kiss. Our lips met and lingered together before breaking apart.

"I love you, Sam."

"I love you too." I stood up and held out my hand to pull him up off the bed. "You know you don't have to keep suffering in silence, right?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, standing next to me.

"I mean, you stayed at Dalton and didn't tell anyone about us dating for almost a year and now you've been keeping this secret for a long time. But you never tell anyone or just let your problems out. But you don't have to keep doing that. If we're going to be a couple," I explained, "A _real _couple, then you've got to let me in. Let me know when you're upset. These aren't just your problems anymore, they're ours." He just shook his head with a puppy dog look in his eyes. Before I knew it, his arms were thrown over my shoulders in another hug.

"I don't know how I got so lucky to find you," he whispered, his face in my shoulder. "You're a good person, Sam."

"I'm only a good person because of you," I told him. If I had watched this scene play out in my head a year ago, I would've thought it was so far away from my reach. But now, even though it felt weird to realize it was so close to not happening, it felt right. I knew it was how things were meant to be. "Come on," I told him. "Let's go back downstairs. Everyone's probably wondering if you're okay."

"What do we tell them when they ask why I left?" he wondered, putting a hand on the door before I opened it.

"We'll just wing it, dude. In case you haven't noticed, my family is surprisingly cool about things."

"Yeah, I did not expect your grandma to launch into a story about Uncle Carl," he said as he pulled his hand off the door.

"You and me both," I told him. We got back downstairs and everyone was in the living room. We turned the corner and joined the rest of the family and their dog Julie which apparently got loose from the upstairs bedroom. She jumped up on me as I took a seat next to Blaine on the floor.

"Is everything okay, Blaine?" my mom asked.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, always politer than he needed to be.

"What happened?" my dad asked.

"Now will you leave the boy alone?" Grandma asked. "Maybe he had the runs and doesn't want to share it with the world." Everyone laughed, myself included. But Blaine leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"What's she mean? The runs?"

"It means you had to take a shit," I told him. His face got beet red and he looked over to Grandma who just gave him a wink. As the night went on and we sat in the living room, I could tell Blaine was starting to feel more comfortable. When I thought about it, I knew I had to do something to make his relationship with his parents better. Maybe if they just met me, they'd be cool with Blaine again. Like if they saw he was still the same guy, he just liked guys. Or that he was choosing someone good for him, that would make them feel better about Blaine being gay.

Either way, I knew I was proud of my family. In the end, I knew that they'd be there for me. Knowing my grandma loved me no matter what, if they could do that for me, I knew they could do it for Blaine too. And for the first time ever, I felt like I wasn't an _I _anymore. I was part of an _us_.


	5. The Porch Swing

**Author's Note: **I'm back. Yes, it's been a very long time since my last update and I apologize. In the past four months, I moved to New York City for a great job opportunity and am starting to have more free time to get back to the story. Thank you for your continuous reviews and emails asking me to continue the story. This fiction _will _be completed, have no fears. _When _is another story, but I promise to do the best I can. Without further delay, enjoy…

A. Gates.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee, their characters, setting, or plot. All of those belong to Ryan Murphy, FOX, and their affiliates.

**Chapter 5 – The Porch Swing**

**Blaine**

I woke up abruptly as though someone shook me awake. A gasp flew out of my mouth as the constant fuzzy sound in my sleeping ears was replaced with the crystal clear sound of silence. I looked around, not sure of my own surroundings until my memory rushed back to me in a split second. I was at Sam's Grandma's house. For a second, I forgot about the day before. The events of the previous day rushed back to me as I stared at the forest green curtains hung against tan walls. I finally told Sam my secret. I told him the truth. My eyes wandered to him as he laid next to me, sleeping soundlessly.

I was too lucky to have him. The real him. The guy I always knew he was. I remember thinking how amazing he would be when I saw him in that mirror on one of our first tutoring sessions at Dalton. And he blew my expectations out of the water. I mean, I lied to the guy for over a year and he still loved me. I know a lot of people looked at our history and would say this lie of mine would "make us even" or whatever after he disappeared for nine months. But it's just not true. I forgave him because it was what I needed. It was what he needed too. And now I had to forgive myself as much as I forgave him that day. Either way, as I watched my boyfriend sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly, I knew I was too lucky to take him for granted. There had to be a thousand gay teens posting pictures of happy couples on Tumblr, listening to sad songs about love, and envying the love life I was blessed with. I needed to appreciate what I did have in Sam for as much as what I didn't have in my family.

The clock on the nightstand caught my eye as it showed it was 7:15. How was I awake so early? We stayed up fairly late the night before. It always felt like the days you didn't need to be up early were the days where it was easiest to wake up on time. I knew Sam well enough to know he would still sleep for a while. As much as I wanted to fall back asleep, I knew it was too late for that. I had woken up for good. I laid in bed, trying to stay still and not wake Sam up, but it was tedious. Part of me wanted to get up and go downstairs. My book I was reading was down there. I could read until Sam woke up. But it felt weird to roam around someone else's house without Sam. I could wait. At least I thought I could. But when my mind was exploding from boredom fifteen long minutes later, the thought of my book downstairs was too much to keep me in bed.

I slid out from under the sheets, moving carefully to not wake Sam up before tip-toing across the room. The door creaked loudly as I opened it and I looked back at Sam, my face screwed up in a cringe. He still slept silently and I watched him closely as I shut the noisy door as quietly as I could. As I made my way down the hallway, I realized there was no creeping around old houses. The floor groaned under each step I took and it wasn't until I made it down the stairs and into the living room that I took a deep breath of relief. Somehow I had made it to my book without waking the entire house up.

"Over here, sweetheart." My heart jumped as I looked to my right and saw Grandma sitting in the kitchen through an open door. She held a mug tightly as she looked at the newspaper open in front of her.

"I didn't see you there," I said as the jolt in my chest faded.

"I know," she replied running a hand down her long, wiry hair that came down to her shoulders. "That's why I said 'over here.' See how it works?" she asked.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," I said as I walked into the kitchen and she got up to go to the sink. The hem of her long, lavender robe caught my eye as it skimmed the floor as she walked.

"How did you sleep last night?" she asked. "That storm was a doozie."

"I slept alright," I said, standing at the counter. "Just not used to these old houses that make noise in the night."

"Well I'm glad you slept okay," she said. "I was worried after the night you had."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I don't know what happened between you running like a jackrabbit out of dinner and you boys coming back to the living room, but I can assume it wasn't good." I cleared my throat, perhaps out of nervousness, maybe out of habit.

"Oh…well…um," I drawled. There was no point lying to Grandma. She had proven that much more than once the night before. "No," I said resignedly, "it wasn't good." She stood over the sink, her face turned to stare at me. She was thoughtful, sizing me up as though figuring out what to say to me. It was tedious being on this side of that look. I was waiting for her to say something wise, something useful, something profound.

"Do you like hot tea?"

"I…yes, but – "

"You see that swing out there?" she interrupted, pointing to the long porch swing hanging outside the living room window. I nodded. "I want you to go sit down and when I get out there, we'll talk about what's bothering you."

"Sure," I said, nodding.

"Go on now," she said with a swish of her hand. I nodded again and walked through the door into the living room. My feet carried me and I wasn't sure I really wanted to have this conversation with Sam's grandmother, but her authority had me moving regardless. When I got out onto the porch, the air was heavy, but not uncomfortable. A breeze swept across the farm and touched my face, cooling it instantly. It truly felt like the long breeze left over after storms.

I edged closer to the swing that was tucked neatly on the end of the porch. The cushions that were inside the front door last night now sat against the seat and back of the swing and its chains clanked softly as the wind whistled against them. As I sat down, I was surprised at the size of the swing, big enough to easily fit three people on it. I rested against the back of the seat and took a deep breath.

The farm was beautiful. I realized I had yet to really see the surrounding land and now that I took a moment, it hit me why someone would live here. It was quiet, serene even. The sun bounced lightly across the field surrounding the house. It was still early, before its rays became oppressive and hot. Grandma appeared on the porch with a tray of two cups, a teapot, some sugar, and an amber bottle.

"You want honey?" she asked.

"I want what?" I replied.

"Honey," she answered. "It's straight from the hive," she explained. "You won't regret it." She set the tray down on a small circular table next to the swing and handed me a cup.

"Oh!," I exclaimed, my face turning red at the misunderstanding. "I thought you were calling me honey," I said. She laughed. "Yes, honey sounds perfect." She filled my cup with steaming tea and added the honey and sugar. I watched as she prepared her own tea just as skillfully as she had mine. She had done this so many times it had to be a fine art to her by now.

"Alright," she said, sitting next to me and relaxing herself into the seat. "We have to discuss a few things before we talk," she explained. I nodded, suddenly feeling very serious. "This swing is a very special spot for me. I've had many tough conversations here, but I've always walked away feeling better." The change in her eyes was visible as she recounted some of the words she shared with others on the swing – telling her husband she was pregnant, helping her daughter through her first heartbreak, even talking silently with her husband after he passed. "It's very important to me that you're honest here. There's no use telling lies if you want useful advice," she explained.

"Agreed," I said.

"I also need you to listen carefully and I'll show you that same respect. And of course, anything you say here stays here unless we decide different. No lies, no disrespect, no judgment. Does that sound fair?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," I replied. Her face softened and she took a sip from her teacup.

"Now go on and tell me what's bothering you," she said. And then she sat quietly, ready to listen to anything I had to say to her.

"Well," I began, awfully aware of how the words weren't coming to me. I cleared my throat. "I guess it's just that I lied to Sam about my family." I stopped, but Grandma just stared back expectantly waiting for me to continue. "Um, I guess I should go back. When we first met, I took Sam out to dinner and he asked me on the car ride home how my parents reacted to me coming out. At this point, he hadn't even told me he was gay, but I still had a feeling he was kind of digging around for answers. I thought if he knew the truth about my family, it would scare him too much and he wouldn't want to open about himself. So I told him they were the most accepting parents ever and that I was lucky to have such amazing people in my life. I couldn't tell him the truth."

"And what's the truth?" she asked.

"My family hates me for coming out," I said. "Well at least, my parents do. My extended family doesn't talk about it and my brother – his name is Ben – he died when I was younger," I explained, clearing my throat again as I spoke about Ben.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "How did he die?"

"We were in a car crash," I answered simply. "My parents were never the same after that. They don't like to talk about him," I explained. Telling the story brought up another lie I told Sam when we were at Dalton. "I remember our first Christmas together, I told Sam about the gift I got my parents. It was this awesome picture of Ben and I had it put in an engraved framed and everything. And he asked if my parents liked it and I told him that they loved it and were moved to tears with how beautiful it was," I said, my voice having a sarcastic air to it as I recounted my lie. "In reality my mom cried and asked me why I would bring up such a horrible memory. My dad got mad at me for making my mom upset and I spent the rest of Christmas break in my room alone." I took a deep breath, the heaviness dissipating from my chest. There was something liberating, something cathartic about revealing my lies to Grandma.

"So now you're living with your parents again?" she asked. I nodded. "And do they know that you and Sam are a couple?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I mean, maybe. I tell them I'm going out with friends, but I don't think they really care. It's probably better for them not to know. Just as long as I'm not around the house, I'm sure they're happy."

"You think so?" Grandma asked as her eyebrows scrunched together.

"There are things that stick in your mind forever. I'll never forget the look of disgust my parents had after I told them I was gay. And I still see it from time to time. I think that they be happiest if they could limit my time at home to family functions and when they're asleep. They don't want me around, trust me," I said, laughing sarcastically. "Just keep up the appearances to the family and friends and that's good enough for them."

"I know you're laughing it off, but sugar, that's no laughing matter," said Grandma.

"Sorry," I said, my face dropping quickly. "I guess it's just easier to not care what they think about me."

"But of course you care what they think," she replied. "As you should. They're your parents, not just any Jack and Jill down the block. We all care about what our parents think about us," she said with a wink. "Even if we don't admit it."

"You're right," I admitted, shaking my head. "I guess I just want them to love me." The candid honesty of my words caught me off guard as though they couldn't have possibly come out of my own mouth. But they shouldn't have been a surprise. They were things I had thought for a long time, I just never said them out loud. I guess I was afraid they would sound awkward or overdramatic. But now that they were out there, they just sounded real, sounded honest. "I just want them to love me," I repeated, staring off into the field as I thought.

"And I'm sure they do," Grandma said soothingly. "Is it okay if I talk now?" she asked. I nodded with a smile. "Good," she said patting my leg with her worn hand. "It sounds to me like your parents have been through a lot and they don't know how to handle it well. One son dies at a young age in a terrible accident and the other comes out to them."

"I don't think you can compare the two," I shot out, somewhat afraid she was taking their side in the whole matter.

"I'm not trying to compare them," she replied in a stern voice that made me instantly embarrassed at my interruption. "I'm just making the point that it's a lot to handle for anyone. As parents, we have dreams for our kids. We invest our emotions in what we want their lives to be like. When they don't turn out that way, it's not easy. But you learn that as your children grow and change, your dreams for them have to change too." Her explanation was spot on, coming out so eloquently with barely any effort. She may have seemed like some country bumpkin, but Grandma was sharp as a razor and wiser than anyone I'd ever met.

"I don't think my parents are up for changing anything. They are very particular about their lives and what they think is and isn't acceptable. They aren't the 'go with the change' kind of people."

"Maybe not," she admitted with a shrug, "But you never know until you give them a chance." She was right. I went to Dalton as soon as I could to get away from them and even when I moved back in with them, it wasn't because I wanted to be with them. It was because I wanted to be closer to Sam. I never really gave them a chance to get closer to me. "It sounds to me like y'all don't really talk much. Maybe the reason they can't change is because they don't really know the wonderful young man you are," she remarked.

"That's what I've been thinking for a long time. I know that if they saw past my sexuality, they'd see me for more than just who I love. I just don't know how to get them to see past that," I said, excited that we were both reaching similar ground.

"Well why not try to spend more time with them?" she asked. "Do things you all enjoy, things that aren't about your sexuality. Try things that let them see your interests. Almost like getting to know you all over again," she explained. "Does that sound like something you can do?" I nodded.

"I think so," I said, not sure of myself, but at least open to trying. "What if it doesn't work?" I asked. "What if they never change?" Grandma looked me straight in the eyes.

"Family is about more than blood," she said simply. "Look, if you and Sammy give me great-grandkids someday, you can't _both _be related to them by blood, can you?" I shook my head. "No, you can't. But that won't mean that either of you won't love them just as fiercely as the other. Family is about who is there for you when you need them the most. It's about who's there to love you and care for you and watch out for your best interests." She put her hand on mine and squeezed it tightly before looking directly at me. "No matter what, you will _always _have a family here," she said confidently.

"Thank you," I said, gulping as the gravity of the conversation I was having hit me. I couldn't bring myself to cry, but I knew I wanted to.

"You keep trying your best, honey. You've got too much love to share and I don't want you keeping it hidden," she said as we hugged. We pulled out of the hug and she let out a happy sigh. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes! A _lot _better," I said.

She smiled wide before saying, "I told you my swing works wonders."


End file.
